Fever
by Wilted Words
Summary: It's a fever you can't sweat out. Slash.


**A/N: This story here, it be full of slash. Lets face it, my stories are as queer as three dollar bills. Anyways, I love reading Walking Dead stories, so I thought maybe I should try to write one? Maybe, possibly? Well guess we'll see how it turns out, eh?**

* * *

The burning starts in your stomach and travels up your spine, making your vision swim, your body feel like jello, and your mouth full of cotton. You have never experienced this before; you almost start to believe that you were bitten by a walker, that you should tell the others. You may not like the other people in your group, but they have the right to know. You glance at your arms; you lift your shirt and see numerous old scars, but no fresh bites. So you aren't bit, but you still feel hot, feverish almost. It all started when that kid came into camp, baseball cap askew, shirt dirty but whole, and his bright smile that won everyone over instantly. You think you understand the feeling burning through your body, messing with your brain. The kid looks your way and his smile grows, you return his smile with a sneer of your own and head towards the woods. You just need to clear your head.

The kid tries to talk to you the moment you get back to camp, not even the crude remarks or threats from your asshole brother scare the little shit away. He seems to have caught the same fever you have. He just sits next to you and starts talking, about everything and nothing. You scoot away, afraid that maybe people will start talking. That maybe your brother will catch on, have to take you out to the woods and beat the shit out of you for it. The thought jerks you back to the present, you scan the camp for him, not around. A small sigh escapes your mouth; you're safe, for now.

"Are you listening? Earth to Daryl, you-"

"Shut up!" You didn't even know the kid knew your name, you don't know his. But you decide it's better that way. You glare at him, trying, pleading with your eyes for him to stop, just leave. He seems to get your point; he frowns slightly but departs from your camp without another word. The fever consuming your body is growing. The buzzing in your head is almost too much, but you continue to ignore it. With the kid not so close anymore, you feel that you can at least catch your breath now, you can at least remember that you sat down to clean your crossbow anyways. Its best you keep your mind occupied, keeps the fever at bay.

It's been two days since the kid has talked to you. Its bittersweet you decide, to be able to have at least one person (besides your own brother) except you is nice, but you realize you have lived your whole life on your own, so why change now? You feel the burning in your chest, and you rub absentmindedly over your heart. You sit on the log by your tent cleaning the few squirrels you caught early that morning. Everyone is moving around the camp site, trying to find something to occupy their time with. That's when you catch the kid's eye. His lips tug upward just a fraction, and that burning in your chest is now a roaring fire.

The kid comes over to your tent; his steps are hesitant, which make you grimace slightly. _It's your fault he's like this now._ The last time he tried to interact with you, you told him none too gently to fuck off. He stays standing this time, shifting slightly from foot to foot, he doesn't know how to approach you anymore, he isn't dumb, he knows when he's not wanted and when he is. He clears his throat, trying to grab your attention away from your task, squirrels don't gut themselves.

"Hey, so like, umm...I thought, well the _group_ thought it would be ummm, good, and stuff, if I went into town, and ummm….you know picked stuff up, and like, you know for us. Like food and other….things…" Your immediate response is to _again_ to tell this kid to go fuck himself and the rest of the people you have found yourself bound to. The fire is eating you alive at this point, with the kid so close. You stop cutting open the last of the squirrels and bring your head up to look the kid right in the eyes.

"Why the fuck they makin' you go to town fer?" Your eyes widen a little when you realized what you have just asked. You didn't mean to ask; you were going to tell him exactly where he could shove that bat of his if he kept coming over and _bothering _you. The kid seems shocked as well; he opens and closes his mouth a few times.

"Well because we need supplies," he fidgets with the straps of his empty back pack, and kicks his toes at the dirt. You can see the faint markings of a blush staining his cheeks. You just shake your head, kids these days.

"Yeah, got that china, but why by 'urself?" The kid looks back up to you, his cheeks still faintly stained red.

"'Cause I offered," he shrugs his shoulders and turns to leave. You can't let him escape that easily, so you stab your knife into the log.

"What kinda stores you goin' too?" The kid spins around, obviously not expecting the conversation to continue.

"Umm, well…Umm, Wal-Mart?" his voice is uneasy. You stand, leaving your squirrel still skinned, with his intestines hanging out its opened abdomen. You pick up your crossbow; sling it over your shoulder and go to stand beside him.

"It's always good to have someone watchin' your back," you realize you have lost your mind, that the fever consuming your body is making you crazy.

You and the kid our on your way into a small town that's close to your campsite, when you realize what you have actually, truly done. You offered your protection to the kid. You groan low in your throat and let your head rest against the window of the car. The kid looks over at you, a look like he wants to ask what's up, but thinks better and returns his gaze back to the road. The fever is killing you.

You make it to the town, to the Wal-Mart, killing only five walkers along the way. You make it inside and that's when the kid starts stuffing his bag with canned food and first aid supplies. You are right behind him, never taking your eyes off the kid's stupid baseball cap, until the sporting good section catches your eye.

"Hey," you whisper towards the kid. His body goes ridged, but he turns to look at you. You tilt your head in the direction that caught your attention. The kid looks over and sees the sign, his eyes find yours again and he smiles and nods his head.

"Meet back here in five," it's not a question but an order; you want to tell him that no one orders a Dixon around, but you refrain from doing so. No use starting a fight when walkers could here, so you nod back and head towards where the hunting equipment is.

You find no guns, but you didn't come here for that anyways. You find arrows that fit your bow and some oil to clean your bow with. You head back to the rendezvous point to meet back up with the kid. You see the spot, but no one's there, so you wait. You were never patient. You go in the direction you last saw the kid head in, towards the personal hygiene section. You always thought that it was stupid how everyone still wanted to bathe with soap and shampoo; do they not realize it's the end of the world? You here a low rustling from the next aisle, crossbow at the ready, you turn the corner to find the kid.

The kid bag is on the ground, pooled over his feet, with a box in his hand. He doesn't seem to have noticed you yet, which you find both funny and annoying. The kid should always be super alert if he's going to be the camps' personal got to town bitch, at least that's how you see it. You make your steps heavier, so the kid will hear you, but won't fucking startle. It works, the kid jumps, but makes no noise. He turns toward you, his eyes wide and surprised, and his chest rising and falling rapidly, the box in his hand shaking slightly. You smirk at him, obviously being caught not paying attention. You saunter right over to him, to tease him a little about it when you see the box he is holding up close.

"Condoms?" It's not meant to come out as a question, but really? The world's gone to shit, so why bother? You tilt your head to the side, eyeing the kid. You ask to yourself, why the hell this kid would need condoms for, so you ask.

"Well, I just, well, I don't…Per say. But, but, but…..ugh, fuck me..." The kid just drops his head and flings his hands in the air. You chuckle softly, the kid is so easy to fluster.

"Whole point of you getting' those right," Your still chuckling softly, a smirk on your lips; the kid looks over to you and just shrugs his shoulders.

"I'm a glass half-full kind of guy," with that he grabs one more box and shoves them into his bag. Your still smirking when you both arrive back to camp. You let the kid deal with passing out the supplies, watching as he puts the two small boxes in his back pockets.

It's not till a night later when you see or hear from the kid again. He takes his place next to you at you and your brother's camp. You cock your eyebrow, silently asking him, what the fuck do you want? The kid just stares into the fire, ignoring your pointed stare. You just shake your head and stare at the same fire. The flames simmering just below your skin are starting to boil over, you feel the heat oozing out of your pores, feel the flush rising to your face, hear the roaring in your ears, see you vision begin to blur. You can't take this anymore.

"What do you want china?" You all but snarl at the kid, because what the fuck? The kid sits up a little straighter, turns so his head and upper body are facing you.

"First, I'm Korean," You just murmur a 'whatever' and let your head dip down a second, before you here the kid continue, "second, why do you stay if you hate it here so much?" and your eyes go wide suddenly, and you feel as though you're on full display; you weren't expecting that. You can't think of anything to say, for once not even a good racial slur will do, you know the kid won't take it for an answer anyways. You just sit there, staring at the kid. He keeps the eye contact, his eyes darting over your face, your body, like he's searching for the answer himself. He suddenly lifts his eyes back to yours, he's smiling at you; you can only think about punching that smile right off his face, because he has found the answer you couldn't.

"Yeah, I thought so," and with that the kid stands and leaves. You feel your body begin to cool as soon as he departs, and you think you found the answer as well.

When you go to sleep that night, your dreams are what keep you awake. You try to go back to sleep, but it's always the same; the hat, the smile, and those hands, they are everywhere. You know you're in hell, that you have been swallowed by the flames growing inside you. So you say fuck it to sleep and crawl out of your tent, mindful to not disturb your brother. You don't even bother grabbing a shirt to cover yourself with, just clad in a pair of dirty jeans.

You sit on your log, and push the dying embers of the fire around. You try and rationalize everything; you try and convince yourself of a falsity that you know is complete bullshit; but you decide that you will go along with it anyways, because you know why you stay. The kid knows why you stay, you feel like it's because you two are connected in that way. You both stay because even though the world has pretty much ended, everyone is dying off around you, and the dead are walking, you still don't want to be alone.

You keep stoking the fire when you hear the shuffle of feet, to coordinated to be a walker, but still it has you on edge. You look over your dim fire and see the outline of the kid; you would know that shadow any day, but you try not to think about that too hard. You and the kid have a stare down, bearing down on the other, seeing who would break first, apparently tonight it's you. You move a little on the log, a silent invitation to the kid, if he wants it; you aren't quite sure. The kid doesn't move for a minute, but finally decides to take the offer, though he sits far too close to you. You suck in a deep, raged breath and your shoulders tense unconsciously.

"You can't sleep either?" you're not quite sure who asks, but it doesn't seem to really matter, because the answer is obvious. So the silence takes over again. Even though your shirtless, and it's nearing fall, your skin feels too hot, the fire to bright, and the kid to close. You get up to go back into your tent, nut you feel pressure grabbing at your forearm. You look down to see the kid staring at you.

"Stay, please?" You want to just shrug your arm free, tell the kid to fuck off, but like with everything else concerning the kid you don't. You sit right back down, and don't even bother to tell the kid to let go of your arm. So you both sit by the dying fire till dawn breaks, and you know that this is why you stay.

The kid moves to get up, to go back to his tent, but you stop him this time. The fever is taking over, you try and blame the kid; he was touching your arm _all_ night. You try and rationalize that you're just trying to seek comfort, a home at the end of the world. So you find your comfort in the Kid's mouth. You don't even realize your kissing the kid like you're dying until you feel his hands combing through your hair, and that has always been a weakness for you. You groan into his mouth and your hands move to cup his face, to run your fingers through his hair (knocking his stupid hat off), down along his neck, over his shirt covered chest. Your hands can't seem to stay still, always moving, they roam up and down the kid's sides, up and down his back, up into his hair again.

You feel the kid push back against your chest, so you let go, you're out of breath anyways. He looks at you and smiles; it's too much you think. You feel the flush crawling up your neck to your cheeks, you feel the insult sliding up your throat so you can throw it up at the kid, but he's too fast.

"I know, I know, I'm going now, just know, this isn't over." The kid takes off towards his own tent; you can finally feel the little trimmers running up and down your spine.

The fever seems to be at bay for now, just a slow burn running through your veins. That's fine you think, just fine. You even allow yourself a small smile and the touch of your fingers to your lips. You trace the chapped edges and try and remember the feel of the kid's lips on yours. You close your eyes, because it's becoming too much again, you revel in the feeling until a big, calloused hand clamps down on your shoulder. Your body automatically tenses at the touch, you drop the hand that was near your lips, and cock your head to the side; you see the ugly smile of your brother.

"C'mon baby brother, thought we was goin' huntin' taday," his smile grows, baring all his teeth; it's not sweet like the kid's, but feral. You just nod your head in affirmation and grab a shirt to throw on, grab your crossbow. You and your brother head towards the woods, before you disappear into the tree line, you see the kid coming out of his tent. You both catch the others eye, and you give him a brief upward tilt of your chin. His eyes widen a little and he smiles, all teeth, but you don't relate it to your brother's.

It's the day before the kid is supposed to take a big group into the city for supplies. You can tell the kid ain't happy about it, but neither of you really have a say in the matter. You both sit by your tent, your brother out in the woods most likely, getting fucking high or whatever; you don't really care too much. Your fiddling with a stick, sharpening one end into a fine point, the kid is sitting right next to you, closer than ever. You let him be though, the contact a welcome reprieve. You feel like the stick is sharpened enough, you hold it out in front to examine it. The kid snorts right next to you, you turn your head and raise your eyebrow; the kid has become good at reading your body language which is both a relief and a nightmare. The kid is getting to close you think, but you never really tried to deter it, so you just got to take it.

"You know we're not trying to kill vampires, right?" The kid's chuckling softly, you just feel like you missed the joke. He must see it in your face, because he stops giggling to try and explain, "well, it's just you know, you usually use stakes, like that," he points to your stick, "to kill vampires, in the movies." You look at him like he has grown a third head, because really now? Vampires? Everyone knows they aren't real, just zombies. That has you pause though, because who would have thought zombies were real once upon a time?

"You never know kid, world's gone to shit. There just could be." Your face is completely serious, the kid's smile drops, his face pensive; bingo. "Just fucking wit ya boy, 'corse there ain't any fuckin' vampires. You stupid or sumthin'," you laugh a little at the kid's expense. He just smiles softly.

"Dude, don't do that! You looked fucking serious, freaked me out man." You tip his hat off and ruffle his hair. He flips you the bird and reaches for the hat, you see your chance and take it.

You grab the hat off the ground before the kid can reach it, and dart across camp towards the woods. The kid just gapes at you. You laugh at his face, taunting him, because you want to know how bad he wants the stupid hat back, and maybe, just maybe you feel like fucking messing around. The kid only takes a few seconds to realize your game, so he lunges for you and his precious hat. You take the hat and dart into the woods, the kid hot on your trail. The kid finally catches up with you and knocks you against a tree, you raise the hat high above your head, but the kid ain't much shorter than you. As he's reaching higher, grazing the lip of the hat, you arch your back against the tree, trying to get it higher out of reach.

You feel the kid stop reaching, stop moving against you. You bring your chin down a little, so your eyes are on the same level, and you see the look in the kid's eyes, and his mind is far from your game. He licks his lips unconsciously, and moves his head forward till your lips are touching. The kiss is chaste, the kid doesn't want to push you too far, but you're already in hell, so what's another sin? You drop the hat and your hands brush through his hair, tangling strands around your fingers, bringing him closer against you.

You feel the kid gasp, you take the opportunity to let you r tongue slide across his lips, over his teeth, you feel the kid moan softly and you take that as a go ahead. You push your tongue further into the kid's mouth, letting your tongue slide over the roof of his mouth. The kid can give as good as he gets, he bring his tongue to tangle with yours, both intertwining, as though in a dance, and it has you pushing your hips forward, because you _need_ more friction. The kid does the same. Soon you both are rutting against each other, mouths still plastered together, and you can feel the burn in your lungs, the pressure in your jeans, you need to do something about it all, but where you are right now is heaven, so why stop. The kid seems to have figured out your dilemma though, he detaches his mouth from yours, gives you a smirk, and begins to kiss down your neck, toward your collar bone; you still can't catch your breath. Your hands snake down to the kid' jean clad hips and you thread your fingers through the belt loops, pulling the kid even closer against you.

The kid hasn't stopped kissing and nipping along your neck and collar bone, you should probably tell him to stop, because soon you won't be able too; it's been too long, too damn long. You grab the kid's hair pull his head back, away from your neck. His pupils are dilated and his breath is coming out in short, shallow pants.

"To many clothes," it's raspy, and almost a growl as it spills from your mouth. It seems to only turn the kid on more; he steps back a little and hurriedly divests himself of his shirt, working on his pants. You can't seem to move as you watch him, his skin being revealed to you like this, and you have to take deep breaths and remember, that yes, this is real. He is down to just some worn old boxers, they're a light blue, but you think that once upon a time they were darker, brighter.

The kid looks at you and frowns slightly, "now who has too many clothes?" His lips quirk into a smile, one you can't help mimicking.

"If ma' clothes offend you that much, why don' you come and take 'em off then?" The kid contemplates your challenge for a mere second, before he's on you; his mouth crashing against yours, forceful enough to feel the clank of teeth, and the whoosh of air as your bodies once again come together.

His hands glide down your sides, sending a tremor down your body. His hands finally stop as they reach the hem of your pants, deft fingers, easily taking care of the button and zipper, pushing till your jeans pull around your ankles. The kid steps back to allow you to step out of them while he unbuttons your shirt, letting the material slide down your arms, till they hit the forest floor. You both stop then. You both take a chance to really look at each other. You don't have to luxury of underwear anymore, so more than not you go commando, so the kid doesn't shy away from eyeing your lower anatomy. You feel a blush coming up your neck again, but you don't try and lash out, you just let yourself look over the kid. His skin is flawless, barely any scars or anything on him, then you realize how you must look in comparison, with your multitude of scars. You feel the niggling in the back of your head that maybe he won't want this now, won't want you now.

"Hey, hey look;" You hadn't realized you had let your head hang defeated, till you had to lift it to look the kid in the eyes, "it's fine, it's all fine." His smile seems to beat down all the self doubt, and you just give the kid a small smile in return.

You feel the moment slipping, and you can't have that, so you reach for the kid again. Grab him around his hip and pull him flush against you. You bring your mouths back together, letting your fingers play around the edges of the kid's boxers; it seems to be driving him crazy. Your body is in rapture, you feel on fire again, like the fever is threatening to break you open. You feel you can't take this anymore that you need more, that this isn't enough. You hook your thumbs inside his boxer and push them down his hips, which the kid wiggles the rest of the way out of. Now that you're both completely bare, you can feel the heat of the kid's skin as well; feel the fever burning through him too. You realize that you can't stay away from camp to much longer either, you can't decide on stopping or continuing, you don't want people coming to look for you both, especially now.

"You better not fucking stop," The kid growls, he nips at your lips to get your attention back, you just smirk.

"Got them condoms wit ya?" You almost find it comical that he shakes his head in assent. You wonder if he has been caring them around with him all this time.

"I also may have snagged some lube too, you know, cause I'm a glass half-"

"-full kinda, blah, blah, blah," You cut him off, because you can't believe how prepared this kid is, it makes you just want to fuck him into the ground, because he wants this, wants it that bad.

You grab the condom and small bottle away from him and flip your positions, so that the kid is now crowded against a tree. You dive in for one more brutal kiss, and then flip the kid so his back is towards you. You open the cap of the lube bottle and pour more than enough, but you don't know how long it's been for the kid, or if he's ever done this, so you want it to be as painless as possible. The kid places his palms against the tree and shoves his ass back towards you, obviously ready to get the show on the road. You run your index finger down his spine, seeing the lube glisten against his skin.

You lean your upper body against his back, your head resting on his neck; you mouth kisses there, small bites, trying to distract him. You finally push one finger in; it's so fucking tight; you don't think you can breathe. You're right, never done this before. You know you won't last long now. The kid tenses a little, but you feel him trying to relax, so you just keep kissing the back of his neck, slowly working him open. You aren't one to carry a conversation during sex, but the kid has you whispering filthy, dirty things into his ear. The kid eats it up, and soon you can push two fingers in him, up to the second knuckle, and fuck you just want to be in the kid already, ravage him and break him apart, so you can piece him back together. You don't, you take your time, you do start to rub yourself against his thigh, because Christ you need to do something.

Finally you feel the kid is as ready as he'll ever be, you pull your fingers out, use your teeth to rip the condom packet and roll it on yourself, pour a generous amount of lube into your hand. You try and get as much on yourself as you can, but you don't stroke yourself to long, because your already on the edge as it is. The kid looks at you over his shoulder, smirk gracing his lips.

"God Daryl, what the fuck is taking so long? You're leaving me hanging here!"

"Sound a lil' too cocky for someone about to get fucked up the ass lil' man," You chuckle slightly.

You line yourself up against the kid and slowly push into him, you feel him tense around you; you wait, you wait till you feel the kid slowly relax. The kid's fucking tight and so fucking hot, you feel that you'll burn alive, but you can't be bothered with that now. You inch forward so fucking slow, but you don't want to hurt him, so you bite your tongue and go at it slowly. You feel your hips jerk a little faster and a little faster still. You try and keep the rhythm slow, keep it easy, but fuck, the kid just feels to good. You find yourself leaning over the kid, your mouth biting at his neck, his shoulder, every now and then letting a string of curses flow out of your mouth, while the kid rocks back against you.

The kids panting below you and whimpering, and it's all becoming too much, you know your almost there, you want it to last forever, if you could, you would fuck this kid forever. You unlatch your mouth from the kid's skin to whisper in his ear again. You tell him how fucking tight and hot he is, how good he feels around you, that you are gonna fuck him till he can't walk, till he'll feel you inside him for a week. The kid brokenly groans out your name, and that's all it takes till your coming inside him.

"Nnnnnn, fuck….fuck….Glenn," His name is groaned low and raspy, and apparently his name is all it takes, the kid comes, some landing against the bark of the tree.

It takes a moment before you actually pull out, toss the condom away. You sit down next to the kid, both of you trying to regain control of your breathing. The kid breaks the silence first.

"You know, I thought you just didn't know my name," He tilts his head to look at you, you lean your head back against the tree, but turn to face him, "if you knew my name, why they hell haven't you ever called me by it?" He doesn't look pissed just more puzzled, you just smirk.

"It's funnier to fuck wit ya' short round," the kid lightly punches your bare shoulder and you both just laugh.

"You know what I think it is really?" The kid's face is fucking glowing, you just hum in answer. "I think you just call me all those other things like China, Korea, Short Round, Kid, and Panda Express, because that's your version of pet names!" The kid jumps up excitedly, like he just won the fucking lottery. He's fucking dancing around and laughing, but you just laugh a long with him, because you think maybe he might be right, but you won't tell him that. You won't tell him that you knew his name a few days after he got here, that you remembered his name the first time you were actually introduced, actually talked together, but he doesn't need to know that.

You gather your clothes and dress, you try and look orderly, but you know that the camp will question why you two were out in the woods together for so long, without your crossbow. You try and ask yourself why you aren't more bothered by it, but you just shake it off, and walk back to camp with the kid, side by side. You see the way Lori leers at you, the way Carol just smiles knowingly, tilting her head down, but again you just shake it off. You know that you aren't alone anymore.

The next day starts out like shit, the kid has to leave and go into town, your able to sneak off for a quick minute, kiss him thoroughly, trying to map out his mouth, just in case. You let your hands wonder over his body, the kid seems to understand what you're up to, so he lets you do as you please. It doesn't last long though, because soon the kid is out of your sight. You feel the tension returning to your body, the fever spiking, the heat burning you inside out, you decide to go hunting, keep your mind off the kid, and your brother. Atlanta ain't safe, not any more.

The day starts off shit, but only ends up getting shittier. Your hunt turns sour when you return to camp the next day after losing a decent size buck, only to find out they left your brother in Atlanta. You know you flipped a bigger shit than he's worth, but he's the only, well, was the only person you had in your life till the kid. You can't just leave him, he's blood, and he's your only family. You try and tell all the fuckers back at camp that, but they can't see past the bigotry, the nasty slurs. You look over at the kid, because he was there, but you just find his face as miserable as your own, and that's what makes you snap. You lunges at this new guy, apparently a cop or something, doesn't fucking matter to you at this point. Shane wraps his arms around your neck till you feel close to passing out, until he finally lets go.

You're able to calm down a little, listen to the new guy explain himself. He says that he's going to go back into Atlanta and get him; apparently that fucking idiot T-dog (whatever kind of name is that, you wonder) chained the damn door shut, so Walkers couldn't get to him, thank the Lord for one favor. So you, the kid, Rick (apparently it's the new guy's name. You wonder if he knows that his wife is fucking around with his supposed best friend, but you don't ask; just let it drop, it's not important right now), and T-dog go back into the city to save your stupid ass brother; unfortunately by the time you get back, he ain't there. The day is total shit, has to be some kind of cosmic justice you believe. You thought that shit had already hit the fan, until you get back to camp, find a fucking horde of walkers attacking camp, and well fuck it all. It has to be cosmic justice, it just has to be.

The next day you all head out of the quarry camp and into Atlanta, to the CDC. Rick, everyone believes that it will be safe, that they will be taken care. You just shake your head, and try and figure how these idiots think it will be a better option than staying out of the city, in the woods. Atlanta is gone, there's nothing there. You want to kick and scream and have your way, but you remember Merle's hand in your bag, remember how the group just left his ass when he had a tantrum; so you suck it up and take one for the team. You just know that when you get to Atlanta you'll be all alone again, with your brother gone now.

"You're going to the CDC with us right?" You startle at the question, not realizing the kid was so close. You glance at him sideways. His hat is tipped low, and he's not looking directly at. "It's just I heard Morales say that he's taking his family elsewhere…To be with their family or something..." The kid's words fade till there's nothing. You turn towards him and tilt his chin up with your finger.

"Are you goin' with group?" Because honestly, you don't know what you're doing; you don't have any family to go to anymore.

"Seeing as I don't have any family to run too, yeah I guess so…Not like I have anyone," His words make your chest constrict, but you refrain from saying anything; you're not a love sick girl. He's looking into your eyes, and he must see this, but then again he seems to be able to see and know everything your thinking, everything you want to say because why else would he say, "Except you."

Yeah that kind of knocks you off balance, because really? This kid is looking to you for direction, looking to be with you. Yeah, you need time to think this over. You drop your hand away from his chin, and pull your fingers through your hair. He's not looking at you anymore, you can see his shoulders slumping, can see the slight hitching in his breath, and you realize. He thinks you're leaving him, he thinks you won't go into Atlanta with the rest of the group. This kid must be some kind of stupid or something, at least to have those kinds of delusions, because he must have known you were pinning after him since he got here (or at least you think he has to know, I mean he knows everything else.)

"Wherever you go, I go," and the kid looks so damn happy after you say those words, you feel almost sick. He just nods his head though and goes to pack his bag. A small sigh escapes past your lips, because you really are a love sick girl, just no one needs to know, especially the kid. So you go pack your bags, get the motorcycle into the bed of your truck, and drive away with the group into Atlanta. You drive into Atlanta alone, but you know when you get there, the kid will be waiting for you, that he'll be there every night, that even though your brother's gone, you aren't alone anymore.

Who knows, you think, maybe the CDC will be our salvation.

**~END~**


End file.
